Total pages in book: 50
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 46751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 234(@200wpm)___ 187(@250wpm)___ 156(@300wpm)
"You're going to kill it, Sparrow. They're all excited out there."
"I'm not nervous about them, Gideon."
He meets my gaze in the mirror, holding it. "I already think you sing like a fucking angel, Kenna. You have nothing to prove to me. All I want for you is for you to get up there and have fun tonight."
My heart flutters, little pieces of it falling into his hands. Does he have any idea how easy he hard he makes it not to fall for him? If I had a perfect guy, it'd be him. Hands down, it'd be him.
He pushes away from the wall, striding across the small dressing room toward me. I don't turn to meet him. I wait for him to step up behind me and lean back against him. His hand slides down the side of my face, curling around my throat as he tips my head back.
Our eyes meet in reality this time instead of in the mirror. His burn with that intensity that's so much a part of him. "I'm going to be jealous as hell the whole time you're up there, Sparrow," he says.
"Why?"
"Because every fucking man in the room is going to be looking at you, wanting what belongs to me," he growls. "And I'm not allowed to touch you."
"They don't want me, Gideon."
"No? Kane showed me the comments they leave on your social media, Sparrow. It's fucked up."
"They don't want me," I whisper. "They don't even know me. They want the fantasy they've built and the dream they've sold themselves. That's all. And when they see me on stage, that's what they see, Gideon. Some fantasy version that doesn't exist in reality. That's what performers do. We sell a fantasy."
"Is that what you're worried I'll see?"
"No." I lick my lips, shaking my head. "I know you'll see through it. You've seen through me since the second you set eyes on me. That's what makes me so freaking nervous. You see me." Selling the fantasy is easy. I've been doing it for years. But singing the words I've written to this man, knowing he's going to see past my defensives and hear the vulnerability and rawness behind them? That's a whole new level of real.
He leans down over me, brushing his lips against mine. "You don't have to hide a goddamn thing from me, Sparrow. I'm not going anywhere. Give me real and raw. Give me you. You'll get the same damn thing from me, baby."
Somehow, despite my nerves, anxiety, and the intensity of the moment, he finds a way to make me smile. "Do you come any other way, Gideon?"
He grins against my lips. "Nope. What you see is what you get, Sparrow."
"Poor me," I sass.
"You said lucky wrong, Kenna."
"No, I'm pretty sure I said it right, Marine."
He growls, nipping my bottom lip. "Get your ass out on that stage and sing the roof down before I see if you can scream it down."
"You did not just say that."
"Said it. Mean it. Would say it again."
I smile despite myself. He's a crazy person. Completely, utterly crazy.
And I think I love it.
Singing in front of Gideon isn't as hard as I thought it would be when he can't take his eyes off me. He watches me with that heated intensity that makes my chest ache and my core clench. My gaze drifts back to him again and again as I sing and strum my guitar and shimmy on the stage.
Now that Maya's planted the seed in my head, I can't help but notice that every time I look at John, he's watching me too, his expression intent and inscrutable. It's as if he's hyperfocused on me. I've never really paid attention to it before, but I guess he has always watched me the same way. I can't unsee now, though. It's a little unnerving how single-minded he is.
I try to force him out of my head, opting to focus on Gideon instead.
Halfway through the show, I decide to have a little fun with him. I call for a volunteer to come up for me to sing to them. When I do this, I usually reserve it for shows where kids are present and pick one of them. I sing a sweet song and then give them a T-shirt. But tonight, I hop down off the stage and squeeze my way through the crowd, pretending to consider who I want to drag up there with me. I have no intention of singing a sweet song, either.
I feel his gaze on me the whole time, as if he's just daring me to pick anyone other than him. I almost do it just to see what he'll do. But I'm not that crazy. I already know he's fully capable of causing a scene. So I taunt him for a few minutes and then pop out behind him.